


Anything is Better Than Nothing

by MidnightOwl (beewitch)



Category: DC Extended Universe
Genre: Beating, Corporal Punishment, Masturbation, Punishment, Self-Harm, Sexual Fantasy, Trans Male Character, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beewitch/pseuds/MidnightOwl
Summary: All Joey wants is a bit of Slade’s attention - it doesn’t have to be positive. All he has is his fantasies, and a razor blade.Graphic self harm, but no blood. Please read the tags before proceeding.





	Anything is Better Than Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiao338](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiao338/gifts).



Joey curls up even tighter, clamps his hands over his ears just a little harder. If he could curl up any more, make himself any smaller he would disappear, he thinks distantly. Grant’s screaming and Slade’s yelling drown out most of his thoughts though. He’s muffled them enough he can’t make out the words, but the noise is still there. He feels sick as he hears Grant cry out, the same sound he makes whenever Slade takes the belt to him. Each hit brings out a yelp, until he’s crying. His body is still shaking by the time Grant falls silent, although he can just make out Slade’s low, rough voice talking. Eventually even that stops, the house eerily silent. He takes a small amount of relief in that. Some nights Grant keeps pushing, works Slade into a frenzy. Those nights are the worst, when he lies awake all night, listening to Grant’s muffled sobbing. Grant usually has to take a few days off school afterwards. Not that anyone ever seems to notice.

He reaches out a hand and rummages around in his bedside drawer. A sharp pain tells him he’s found what he was looking for, and he pulls out the razor blade. He would honestly prefer it be him Slade belted. At least he’d have his whole, undivided attention for once. Grant never appreciates the way he can get Slade to focus on him with the slightest reaction. No matter what he does, Slade barely even notices him. Gently he presses the blade to his finger tip, pushing down slightly. He swears he can feel each layer of skin splitting when he takes it slow enough. Taking his time with it always feels better.

Placing the razor down on his pillow he admires the bloodless cut, pulling apart the flaps of skin and flinching as it tears further. The taut skin turns white from pressure. Gently he licks it, slides his tongue in like he’s fucking the cut. The sting only encourages him to press harder. He imagines it’s Slade’s tongue, licking at his wound. His tongue drives in deeper, harder.

Eventually he drags himself away from the cut and closes a fist around the blade to split his other finger tips, and shivers. The pain feels hot, warming his body enough to finally uncurl. He wishes Slade would pay attention to him, hurt him like he does Grant so he didn’t have to do it himself. Anything would be better than nothing.

Joey drops the razor back into his draw and flexes his fingers. If Slade would just _look_ at him he wouldn’t have to do all this. If he’d just touch him, hold him down with those thick, strong arms... his breath stutters, and he feels an answering throb in his cunt. He wants so desperately for Slade to rip his pants down and hold him down on his lap, to bring his belt down across Joey’s arse. He’d be so good, give himself entirely to Slade. Anything to get Slade to touch him.

He slides his hand between his thighs, fingers delicately tracing his pussy lips. The slight pressure is enough to make the cuts tingle. He thinks about how Slade would feel, thick, calloused fingers teasing him. He slides an uncut finger from his left hand down against his hole, already slick, and shoves two in at once. It’s the closest he can get to the size of Slade’s fingers, although his feel too soft and short even with the burn. They hook and tug up at his opening and he squirms, imagining Slade’s huge fingers tugging him up, pulling him into position. He rubs at his clit harshly with the other hand, relishing the sting from the cuts. His legs fall open and his feet kick and slide across the mattress in pleasure. Still, he keeps them spread, showing himself off to Slade in his mind. Would Slade bring the belt down between his thighs? Just one good, solid crack. Enough that he’d feel it for days, that it’d burn when he pissed or jerked off. A lasting mark to show that at least once, he’d payed attention to Joey.

He’s so wet he can feel it slicking his arse cheeks, soaking into the mattress. Anytime he thinks of Slade it works him up, gets him like this. The only way he knows how to cope is to make it hurt. The alternative, fantasies about him caring and doting on him, are too bizarre and unsettling, wholly out of character for what he knows Slade to be like. Isherwood is more the kind father figure, not Slade. Never Slade.

Roughly he shoves another finger in, then a fourth. He can’t help but shake, so close to the edge from all the pain and pleasure. His slick is so thick it’s audible in the silent room but he can’t find it in himself to care. He hopes Slade can hear him, and whimpers at the thought. He spreads his legs just a little further, cants his hips up to show off to his fantasy of Slade - and hits just the right spot, cumming with a gasp. His thighs clamp together and he throws back his head as it pulses through him, hips stuttering and grinding against his hands.

After what feels like a small eternity his body falls limp, heart beating so hard he can feel it in his pussy. Lazily he fucks his fingers a few times before finally sliding them out, each pump making him twitch. His hands and sheets are soaked, strands of slick webbing his fingers. He licks clean the fingers that were inside him, the taste musky yet sweet. The warmth of his mouth is comforting, a common bedtime ritual after he’s jerked off. He takes more care with the other hand, makes sure to slide his tongue into each cut and thoroughly clean it out. Still hazy from orgasm and almost asleep he barely registers the pain, falling asleep with his fingers still in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this you can find me on Twitter @beewitchwrites where I yell about ships, cosplay and writing, and sometimes post polls to help me pick what to write next. If you have any suggestions for future fics (kinks, pairings, fun toys whatever) feel free to drop them in the comments section. The nastier the better!
> 
> If you think I’ve missed any tags please let me know!


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